room.
Without once touching any of the floor .
Geena gasped. And then clung. She wrapped her arms tightly about his chest as he moved, swooping to snag the bundled ushabti. He cradled it at his lower belly propped against her arm. And then he flew through what should have been closed glass doors – if she’d been thinking and acting remotely normal last night – and went right over the balcony edge.
Into thin air.
Geena slammed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see the end coming. Heated wind lifted her hair, rippling through the sheet about her. The ends of his suit coat slapped against her. Her grip subconsciously tightened. She even got a leg free, and wound it about one of his. Her heart was acting like an enraged beast, pounding at its cage with painful thuds. Each breath took immense effort and was gained with a lot of shaking. Then, they were shallow bits of air. Quickly drawn. Just as quickly exhaled.
He started whispering in her ear. The sound was soft. Serene. As if he hadn’t just leapt to his death and taken her with him.
“Geena- nefer . Habibi. You will come to no harm. Trust me.”
She cracked one eye open. Then the other. He looked exactly as he’d sounded. Perfectly calm. Unruffled. And that’s when it hit her. They weren’t falling. A quick glance downward showed the lights of Cairo to their left, while the world-famous landmarks of the Giza plateau grew smaller and smaller.
“Sokar?”
“Yes?” He was smiling. And then he winked.
“You’re flying !” Her shaking intensified. Her grip increased. She was very near to bursting into tears.
“Not really.”
“Not...really?” Shaking made the words quake. Her teeth chattered.
“It’s more of a...very long freefall. Ah. There is the plane. Hold on, darling.”
Hold on? Was he kidding? She was gripped to him like a suction cup on glass. Her arm at his back was hooked around his neck. The front one hugged his torso. Still, she screamed when he bent forward and dove. The descent was too fast. At too steep an angle. Headfirst. Geena had heard of people dying of fright. She’d never believed it possible.
Until now.
She was probably hyper-ventilating before he went vertical again, bent his knees, and simply stopped. There wasn’t a jolt. There wasn’t even a nudge. She didn’t shift from her death grip, however, although her muscles were burning with the effort.
“Hello there, your majesty!”
Geena turned her face into Sokar’s shoulder. It was against everything she’d been taught and experienced. She sucked back a sob. She was not going to cry. She never did. She refused to start now. Crying was the equivalent of weakness.
“Everything is prepared?”
Sokar’s question sent a weird vibration, as if his voice boomed through her. It also echoed, defining an enclosed space. Geena sniffed. She couldn’t face him. Not yet.
“Ready when you are.”
“Very good. You may proceed.”
Sokar dropped his ushabti somewhere. She heard the slightest rustle as it landed. Despite her grip he pulled her to his front, into his arms, and sat. His suit coat twisted across his back, but that didn’t seem to hamper him much. The enclosure about them shuddered. As if she really was in a small jet. And it really was getting ready to take off. But for that to be true, the cabin needed to tilt.
On cue, the ascent started, pushing her against Sokar. Geena huddled there until the plane leveled off. And then she counted off eight more seconds before moving. She couldn’t stay. It felt far too heavenly. And that was just not right.
Geena wriggled. His arms loosened. She pushed backward, rocked slightly atop his thighs, and watched his shirtfront for several more moments. It was time for answers. No matter how horrid they might be. She wasn’t a weak-willed vapid female. She was strong. Tough. And deadly.
“Um. Sokar?”
She should have waited. She didn’t sound self-assured and composed. She sounded incredibly young. And
Without once touching any of the floor .
Geena gasped. And then clung. She wrapped her arms tightly about his chest as he moved, swooping to snag the bundled ushabti. He cradled it at his lower belly propped against her arm. And then he flew through what should have been closed glass doors – if she’d been thinking and acting remotely normal last night – and went right over the balcony edge.
Into thin air.
Geena slammed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see the end coming. Heated wind lifted her hair, rippling through the sheet about her. The ends of his suit coat slapped against her. Her grip subconsciously tightened. She even got a leg free, and wound it about one of his. Her heart was acting like an enraged beast, pounding at its cage with painful thuds. Each breath took immense effort and was gained with a lot of shaking. Then, they were shallow bits of air. Quickly drawn. Just as quickly exhaled.
He started whispering in her ear. The sound was soft. Serene. As if he hadn’t just leapt to his death and taken her with him.
“Geena- nefer . Habibi. You will come to no harm. Trust me.”
She cracked one eye open. Then the other. He looked exactly as he’d sounded. Perfectly calm. Unruffled. And that’s when it hit her. They weren’t falling. A quick glance downward showed the lights of Cairo to their left, while the world-famous landmarks of the Giza plateau grew smaller and smaller.
“Sokar?”
“Yes?” He was smiling. And then he winked.
“You’re flying !” Her shaking intensified. Her grip increased. She was very near to bursting into tears.
“Not really.”
“Not...really?” Shaking made the words quake. Her teeth chattered.
“It’s more of a...very long freefall. Ah. There is the plane. Hold on, darling.”
Hold on? Was he kidding? She was gripped to him like a suction cup on glass. Her arm at his back was hooked around his neck. The front one hugged his torso. Still, she screamed when he bent forward and dove. The descent was too fast. At too steep an angle. Headfirst. Geena had heard of people dying of fright. She’d never believed it possible.
Until now.
She was probably hyper-ventilating before he went vertical again, bent his knees, and simply stopped. There wasn’t a jolt. There wasn’t even a nudge. She didn’t shift from her death grip, however, although her muscles were burning with the effort.
“Hello there, your majesty!”
Geena turned her face into Sokar’s shoulder. It was against everything she’d been taught and experienced. She sucked back a sob. She was not going to cry. She never did. She refused to start now. Crying was the equivalent of weakness.
“Everything is prepared?”
Sokar’s question sent a weird vibration, as if his voice boomed through her. It also echoed, defining an enclosed space. Geena sniffed. She couldn’t face him. Not yet.
“Ready when you are.”
“Very good. You may proceed.”
Sokar dropped his ushabti somewhere. She heard the slightest rustle as it landed. Despite her grip he pulled her to his front, into his arms, and sat. His suit coat twisted across his back, but that didn’t seem to hamper him much. The enclosure about them shuddered. As if she really was in a small jet. And it really was getting ready to take off. But for that to be true, the cabin needed to tilt.
On cue, the ascent started, pushing her against Sokar. Geena huddled there until the plane leveled off. And then she counted off eight more seconds before moving. She couldn’t stay. It felt far too heavenly. And that was just not right.
Geena wriggled. His arms loosened. She pushed backward, rocked slightly atop his thighs, and watched his shirtfront for several more moments. It was time for answers. No matter how horrid they might be. She wasn’t a weak-willed vapid female. She was strong. Tough. And deadly.
“Um. Sokar?”
She should have waited. She didn’t sound self-assured and composed. She sounded incredibly young. And
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